Utter Control
by Partner
Summary: [Repost] It wasn't that Aizen had a lot of time of his hands; he was simply bored. And what better way to pass the time than a brand new toy?
1. The Playmate Arrives

First part of the Utter series.

Content: Rape, psychological trauma - applies to all chapters.

* * *

Aizen lifted an eyebrow, staring at the sight before him. He was rather elated when he had heard that absolutely fascinating ryoka boy had come to Las Noches to rescue Inoue. He was especially pleased when he heard Gin had captured him. Aizen even almost forgot how angered he was at Grimmjow.

___Almost._

The Sixth Espada would receive his well-deserved punishment.

"..Gin. I don't believe most people would consider this '_playing_" Aizen's voice echoed through the white room, leaving a few slightly awkward moments of silence.

"Ya' don't say? Sorry 'bout that Aizen-sama. Guess I went an' got all excited. Ah, but broken bones heal, don't they?" The fox-faced man responded with his usual smile, speaking with a slightly teasing tone with the last sentence. This produced a smile on Aizen's face.

"Yes, I suppose they do. We can have our little princess patch him up" Aizen stared down the the orange-haired shinigami. In most situations, his bright orange hair would of almost been seizure-inducing the plain white rooms.

But there were a few other factors. The chains clasped down on Ichigo's wrist, giving him a little bit of space to move. Not that he was using it. Gin's version of playing had been pretty much torture. The shinigami had several sized screws and nails embedded into his arms, a few running up to his shoulders. The rest of his body remained untouched.

Aizen assumed there were more wounds under his shihakuso, after all, even after being nearly sliced in half, Ichigo still had remained conscious. There was no way he'd pass out like he was now if there wasn't more pain.

"Well, I think I'll greet our little guest ourselves. Do watch those others. Or at least shoo them out. They're of no interest to me." Gin responded to Aizen's orders with a quick nod, and left the room quietly.

Watching the unconscious shinigami for a few moments, Aizen crouched down, tapping the boy's face lightly with the back of his fingers.

"Wake up, Kurosaki." A few more harder taps and the orange-haired boy stirred, his eyelids opening slightly.

"Wh-Ah-You!" Ichigo pulled back, pushing his back up against the wall. The sudden movement causing pressure on his arms, and he ended up with his eyes clamped shut again, hissing in pain.

"Good, good, what a quick reaction." Aizen's face remained unchanged from his usual stare and smile.

"Wh-Where's Orihime? What did you do to her?!" Ichigo spat out, breathing at a quickened pace. The brown-haired man didn't respond, he just stared as he always had. Ichigo shifted in place, the silence bothering him more than the screws in his arms.

"Wh-why are you still staring?"

"No reason. I just wondered how long it'll take you to realize I'm not interesting in answering your questions. Or rather, I don't need to." Aizen's fingers trailed over a screw on Ichigo's arm. He tapped the top of the screw lightly, positioning his fingers as if he was attempted to screw it in place, barehanded.

Ichigo suddenly preferred the silence better, feeling pressured under that smug stare and the fingers threatening to worsen a wound.

The fingers left the screw, only to grip Ichigo's chin tightly, turning his face from side to side. As if Aizen was inspecting him. Ichigo tensed up, but remained quiet, curious about this.

"Not bad. I prefer women myself, but our little princess just doesn't cut it. But you're quite fascinating"  
Aizen leaned closer, still holding Ichigo's face still. His lips ghosted over Ichigo's, piercing brown eyes staring into another pair of nervous brown eyes.

"What do you say..._Ichigo_?"


	2. Playmate Wanted

Ichigo almost felt glad that Aizen had just been teasing him. Usually teasing would send him into bouts of rage. But Ichigo would do damn near anything to keep that man away from him.

However, that's the only part of his situation that improved. Still chained to the wall, his arms finally having gone numb. The shinigami also discovered an unknown number of gashes on his stomach. Or at least in that area. It wasn't like he could check.

Ichigo's head snapped up towards the door. He could of ___sworn_he heard footsteps...

His thoughts were confirmed when an all too familiar face opened the door. Black hair, teardrop marks, and an unchanging stare. The 4th Espada, Ulquiorra. Ichigo scowled. In his weakened state, Ulquiorra's reiatsu made him nervous.

Ichigo found himself focused on the person behind Ulquiorra. What arrancar had hair almost the same color as him?

"___O-Orihime_!"

"Ichigo!" Orihime popped up from behind Ulquiorra, Ichigo didn't remember her being that short. She stepped forward once, only to gain a stare for Ulquiorra. It was still an emotionless stare, but Orihime had been here long enough to know. She stopped still, looking as nervous as Ichigo had.

"She'll be here to heal your wounds and nothing more." Ulquiorra turned his gaze to Ichigo, allowing Orihime to go to the orange haired boy.

Orihime looked horrified and worried at Ichigo's wounds, but he shot her a reassuring stare.

It seemed to take forever for her to heal Ichigo's wounds. She could probably fix each of his arms in seconds. The chest wounds were understandable due to Ichigo's inability to move freely. But even so, Ulquiorra noticed her slowness.

"..hmm."

A small hum. Ichigo flinched. Not from that, but from how much Orihime flinched. It seemed that a hum was Ulquiorra-ese for 'Move it'.

"I-I'm done." Orihime slowly got up, watching Ichigo closely with forlorn eyes. Ulquiorra snatched her arm, giving a harsh tug. Ichigo gave Orihime a determined look, assuring her again, as if saying "Don't worry, go."

* * *

Again he was alone in the painfully plain, white room.

"Ahhh, that's the fight 'tween Itchy-go and Grimmjow ain't it? The second one, I mean." Gin tilted his head, smiling at the brown-haired man.

Aizen had been watching the battle between Ichigo and Grimmjow on the same screens he viewed when Ulquiorra crushed his eye. Although, through the whole fight, Aizen was reminded over and over just how much punishment the sixth Espada would get.

"Yes, yes it is Gin."

"_Aww_, now lookit' that! You're al' focused on Itchy-go and ignorin' me!" Gin pouted, making several exaggerated gestures with his hands.

"There's still Tosen to bother."

"He's al' rapt up wit' that Wonderwice kid."

"There, there, Gin. I promise I'll get you a playmate. In fact, you can have our little princess. Just don't play with her like you did with Kurosaki." Aizen snapped his fingers, the screens disappearing. He left the room with a very giddy Gin, who ran off towards Orihime's room.

It was time to visit his little shinigami.


	3. Damaged

"Wh-What do you want?" Ichigo was reminded for the possibly hundredth time of his situation. Unable to hug Orihime, unable to move away from Gin's torture, or Aizen's touch. ANd there he was again, that wretched man, the king of Las Noches.

"Just to check up on you. Our little princess did a good job patching you up. Divine work." Aizen chuckled lightly, as if he had been proud of an achievement his own child had done. But Ichigo felt a shiver run down his spine, when Aizen's eyes stared dead into his, his usual smirk growing.

"Oh, don't think I forgot about you. Jealous little boy." The older man's left hand waved in the general direction of Ichigo, the chains around the boy's wrists unlatching. Somewhere in the back of Ichigo's mind, he wished he knew that trick. But that wasn't important. What was important was that he was free. It didn't matter. Not with his captor being Sosuke Aizen.

Before Ichigo could even blink, a strong hand smashed the side of his head into the dried blood-stained floor.

The shinigami let out a mixture of a groan and a hiss. His joints ached from finally being able to move, but his head throbbed, making him feel as if his eyeballs rolled to the back of his head.

"Now come on, you can move faster than that. But it does make this easier." Somewhere above his was Aizen, Ichigo still seeing dots in front of him.

Ichigo hadn't even noticed the tongue licking at his neck.

"Wh-what the hell-?!" Ichigo squirmed, his voice coming out shakey and somewhat half-asleep.

"You sweat an awful lot..." Aizen jerked Ichigo's head to face him, causing some discomfort for the boy. "..did you know that?" In barely a whisper, the older man locked Ichigo into a kiss. It was almost like an experimental kiss. 'Will he kiss back?', 'Will he try to bite me?'. But instead Ichigo, still dazed, inhaled sharply.

Aizen pulled back, chuckling.

"_Priceless_."

Another kiss, almost bruising Ichigo's lips. Ichigo shivered, rolling his eyes back unconsciously. How was he supposed to react to this? This was his first kiss! Ichigo's thoughts ran into a complete mess when he felt Aizen's tongue slip into his mouth. It was disturbing to Ichigo, holding back the urge to gag, his entire body feeling as if it were paralyzed, his heartbeat becoming the loudest thing in the room.

He felt a mixture of relief and fear when Aizen pulled back, his lips still only a tidbit away from Ichigo's. The older man scanned the boy's eyes.

"Damaged. Damaged, but not broken." Aizen smirked, feeling satisfied with himself, leaving the boy.

Ichigo couldn't bring himself up off the floor, his tremulous body betraying him. He still couldn't shake off the feeling of arousal.

* * *

"Princess!" Gin's voice rang out in a sing-songy tone, entering the young girl's room.

Orihime jumped up a little, turning to face the fox-faced man. "O-Oh, Ichimaru-sama..G-Good..morning?"

"Don't feel bad, Princess. I can't tell what time it is eithe'." He leaned forward, hands on his hips.

The room remained quiet, Gin still staring at Orihime with his closed eyes. She didn't know what do to. He would probably be mad at her if she turned back away from him, but it's not like they were talking.

"...ya know, princess...Ya kinda remind me'a someone." The silver haired man's voice fell low, speaking quietly enough for his voice not to echo. He straightened himself out, hands slipping off his hips. Advancing slowly towards the much smaller girl.

"..'well..not ya in particular..just, well, heh, tha' ___fantastic_rack o' yours." Taking a step between each word, ending up with Orihime leaning into the wall, wishing she could somehow morph with it. Gin placed his forearm on the wall, leaning into Orihime's face. "Ya won't mind iffa' play wit them a bit?"

His other hand creeped over to the collar of her shirt, ripping it, in one quick motion, the shirt now barely covering her rather large chest. Orihime let out a shocked gasp, stifling a sob.

"...Goodnight, princess." His venom seeped into her mind. Gin left the room, feeling much better.

Orihime slid to the floor, shuddering and sobbing.


	4. Entertainment

Ichigo slipped back into consciousness. He remembered falling asleep on the floor..but for some reason the floor suddenly got extremely soft and comfortable. The room didn't reek of dried blood either.

"Good morning, Ichigo."

His eyes shot open, his view filled with the smiling brown haired man. He wanted to move but something weighing heavy on his chest froze him in place. But there was nothing there.

"Oh, that's right. Guess I should let you know..."

Ichigo flinched when Aizen's hand reached out to grab his own arm. That's when Ichigo saw it, odd black marks on his forearm reminding him of Renji's tattoos.

"They're on your other arm too. Helpful little things. Seal off your pesky spirit energy. Can't have you running off. It's probably because of my spiritual pressure that you can't move." Aizen spoke calmly, as if he'd done this a million times before. Ichigo would of given an all-too-familiar scowl to the man, but through the whole thing, Aizen's eyes were locked on his.

Slowly, he felt the pressure off his chest weakened. It was still there, but just barely. Ichigo had an urge to look around, curious to where he was. Aizen seemed to have read his mind, breaking the stare and moving out of Ichigo's view.

The shinigami steadied himself on his forearms, taking a look around the room. He didn't take anything in. What bothered him was the bed he was laying on.

In a second, Aizen was on Ichigo, straddling Ichigo's waist, holding the younger boy down by his shoulders. "How observant."

Ichigo opened his mouth to talk, yell, complain, anything; but Aizen didn't let him. Giving another bruising kiss, slipping his tongue into Ichigo's mouth, exploring the younger boy's mouth.

Ichigo shook his head, attempting to break off the kiss, it didn't seem to occur to him to bite down on the man's tongue. Maybe he was afraid.

Aizen pulled back, pressing his palm to Ichigo's neck, gently applying pressure. Not enough to stop Ichigo's breathing, but just enough to make it more difficult.

"I didn't quite plan on making you enjoy this. You're my plaything. This.." Aizen undid the sash on Ichigo's hakama. "..is for.." He opened up the shirt of the boy's shihakusho. ".._my _entertainment."

Ichigo couldn't react. What should he do? What could he do? He desperately tried to keep his breathing normal, keep his eyes normal. How could he? He knew very well what was going to happen. With his spirit energy, Aizen could probably rip him apart. Of course, he was probably going to do that anyway.

The shinigami tried anyway. Attempting to raise his arm, Aizen only responded by increasing the pressure on Ichigo's neck. The orange haired boy gasped, writhing under the larger man. So focusing on breathing, on surviving, Ichigo failed to notice Aizen removing the rest of his clothing.

Releasing Ichigo's neck, Aizen flipped the boy around easily, shoving his face back down into the covers of the bed, his hips raised up high. After catching his breath, Ichigo realized how embarrassing this position was. The older man leaned down, his clothed chest touching Ichigo's naked back. Aizen leaned to Ichigo's ear, whispering to him.

"What would your precious friends say if they saw you like this?" His voice held a chuckle. Aizen didn't have to tell Ichigo; he was already imagining it. The younger boy's face held a deep red color.

Ichigo let out a mixture of a groan and a scream, feeling something slip into his entrance. He heard Aizen chuckle lowly into his ear. Ichigo figured it out; it was a finger. Another finger, possibly a thumb, circled around Ichigo's entrance, while the other finger, already in him, moved subtlety.

The shinigami groaned, squirming under Aizen. Movement. Ichigo wanted movement. One part of his mind told him to move, move away from this man. The other part told him move as well, make this man move his finger, make him move to make you feel good.

Another finger slipped in, earning a gasp from Ichigo and a grin from Aizen. But just as quickly as the finger went it, it came out. Ichigo felt the pressure of Aizen's chest off his back, his breath away from his ear.

Curious, Ichigo began turning his face, trying to catch a view of the man. He heard noises...Something similar to clothes rustling. His eyes widened. He knew what was coming.

His attempts to squirm away failed, Aizen held Ichigo's face down into the covers by the back of his neck, the shinigami struggled just to keep his nose up and breathing.

"Now, now, can't have you running away at the best part."

Ichigo felt his stomach sink. It was happening, it was really happening.

"..n-no! S-stop! _Please_!" His voice came out strained, heavy with fear. He heard no response from Aizen, he attempted to move again, but Aizen's strong hand kept him down.

The orange haired boy felt something else attempting to enter him. Something obviously larger. Ichigo's breathing hitched, finding the strength to move his arms. Aizen's spiritual pressure said otherwise. In one swift movement, he entered the younger boy.

"Hggk-!" Ichigo felt tears well up in his eyes. He bit down on the blankets, attempting to keep himself from saying what went through his mind. _'____No, no, please stop! I-It hurts! I can't take it, please, please, take it out!'_

Giving little; if any prep time, Aizen began thrusting, a rather fast pace for the virgin boy beneath him. But it was well obvious that Aizen never planned for Ichigo to enjoy this. Ichigo choked on his breath, stifling his sobs, his lower back erupting in pain.

Somewhere above him, he heard Aizen lightly moaning, and maybe even a chuckle at Ichigo's pained sobs. Switching to a more stabbing thrust motion, Ichigo wailed, his hands trembling, clutching the bedsheets.

Any pride the shinigami had left disappeared when he heard another groan from Aizen, the thrusting stopping and a warm liquid filling him.

Ichigo's tears stopped, his cries stopped, his mind completely frozen. He didn't recall when Aizen pulled out, and walked halfway to the door, but when his mind seemed to fall back into reality, tears poured back down his cheeks.

Aizen turned back to Ichigo, who was covering himself with the stained bedsheets. His eyes locked with the younger boy's eyes. Ichigo's eyes spoke of pain. But there was obvious anger.

"Good." The older man smirked, exiting the room.

Ichigo could of sworn there was someone else behind that door...but the pain in his back, his head, his neck, his ___everything_distracted him.


	5. Pitiful

Orihime hid herself in the farthest corner of her white room. Whenever her trembling back lifted even the slightest bit off the wall, the girl quickly slammed herself back into the wall with strength that seemed to be impossible coming from such a frail girl. Under her white shirt, her back was stained with bruises from such abuse.

It wasn't enough. No amount of blood and sweat will wash it away. _His _scent. _His t_ouch. She held her mouth, holding back whatever food was left in her stomach.

She felt used, worthless, easy. She let it happen so easily. At this point, she felt no better than a whore.

More than that, there was the shame. The embarrassment. She'd never want to face Ichigo again. She didn't deserve him.

Again and again, her thoughts ran back to him. That disgusting man. _His _fingers, his presence, his mouth, _his _voice and those horrible words...

___What would your precious little strawberry say if he saw you like this?_

* * *

Ulquiorra watched the white hallway with his usual, concentrated attention. He saw Aizen emerge from the hallway, heading away from Ichigo's room. Grimmjow followed, inches behind him. This was a surprise to the Arrancar. Usually, Grimmjow would want to keep as far as away from Aizen. Now, he was so close to him yet not making a single sound of discomfort. It was...out of character for the rash Arrancar. But then there was the punishment he earned that had to be taken into account.

Perhaps the punishment had finally tamed the wild Sixth Espada. The only remnants of the punishment that remained, or rather what was obvious, was the large disfigured scar that dominated the left side of Grimmjow's face. It was amazing he kept his rank with only one working eye.

Ulquiorra's train of thought broke when Aizen turned toward him, giving a gesture to Ichigo's room. The arrancar nodded in response, ignoring Grimmjow on the way to Ichigo's room.

The plain white room was only lit by the several screens bunched together, each displaying something different. One screen showed the outside of Las Noches; sand, sand and more sand. Another displaying Stark sleeping as usual.

He didn't need to see. But it's not like he could anyway. He could feel and hear. Feel the resting reiatsu of Stark, hear the howl of the winds ripping at the Hueco Mundo sands.

It was a boring job, that was his first thought. Until the odd shinigami boy and his friends invaded. He applauded them. Their strength. Not their decision. Such...injustice.

Even so, long after they had been flushed out and the shinigami boy had been captured, he could not watch. The boy deserved the punishment he got, but the sounds he made...the sounds he didn't make, were scarring, disturbing, it made one's stomach curl.

"Mmm?"

Tousen looked to his side. He didn't see the young boy, but felt him there.

"What's wrong, Wonderweiss?" Silence. The blind man heard the sounds of feet shuffling against the floor and a few whimpers. Tousen immediately knew what was wrong. The Arrancar only acted like this around one person.

The door behind Tousen creaked open, the spiritual pressure flowing into the room.

"Heya Tousen. Whatcha watchin'?" Gin strolled in, giving Wonderweiss, who had hid in the farthest corner of the room, a wave.

Tousen turned back toward the screens, not focusing on anything in particular. It wasn't that he despised this man...he just disliked him.

"Oooh noo! You weren't watchin' me and the lil' princess were ya? I feel so embarassed." Tousen could of swore Gin was imitating that flamboyant idiot from 11th company.

"I wasn't."

"Oh? So ya weren't interested? Tha' hurts my feelin's too." Gin pouted, crossing his arms.

An awkward silence fell between the two. The only sounds in the room came from the screens and Wonderweiss's whining. Tousen shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with this. He felt that bastard smiling as usual.

"What did you come here for?"

"Ya know, they're bettin'."

"Betting? Who is? For what?" Tousen faked interest. Chances are this was something irritatingly stupid.

"On how long it'll take lil' Ichi to break. Ulquiorra said one more time'll do it. I agree, he's good wit' this sorta stuff."

Taking on a pet, a playmate..a distraction, was nothing unusual to all the inhabitants of Las Noches. Aizen had done this countless times before in such a short time.

"So? Whaddaya think?"

"...I don't like betting on the suffering of others." He heard Gin click his tongue in irritation.

"Oh, you're no ___fuuunn_." The blind man heard Gin leave the room. The silence returned but it was preferred over the awkward one he experienced just a second ago.

Wonderweiss returned to Tousen's side, tugging on his hakama. Tousen ignored him, his blind eyes focused on the screen showing the damaged shinigami in the showers. Crouched down in a ball, it was a pitiful sight, even for the man who couldn't see.

He almost felt like helping him.

Almost.

* * *

Ichigo held his head in his hands, letting the warm water drip down his body. Never before had he felt so tired. An aching pain in his lower back and an odd suffocating feeling in his chest. That feeling first appeared when he truly realized the gravity of what happened between him and Aizen.

The boy's face turned a shade similar to his hair. He had been so happy seeing that Orihime was okay...How was he going to face her now? Could he? Does he have the right to?

___What would your precious friends say if they saw you like this?_


	6. Fly

Gin pranced down the long white hallways, humming off-tune. "Mornin' Ulquiorra!" Continuing prancing, advancing on the stoic Arrancar.

"Or is it night? Ah, I can't ever tel' wit' this place." He stopped prancing, tilting his head.

"...I'm changing my bet."

"Oh? That's weird." Gin leaned back, hands on his hips. "Lotta people thought you were pretty sure only one more time should do it."

"One more time will do it. But he won't break. In the...usual way.." Ulquiorra stared firmly at Gin his voice remaining monotone despite the pauses.

"Oh-ho! So that's whatcha mean. Mmkay." Gin stepped forward, continuing his stroll. "Ya heard? Grimmjow gets lil' Ichi if he does break."

Ulquiorra watched Gin carefully until he couldn't see him anymore. He turned away, losing interest in what had just been said. At least he knew why Grimmjow was behaving so well.

* * *

Ichigo flopped on the plain white bed, exhausted. He had spent the past hour searching every corner of the room as if expecting a secret passage or something that could give him a glimmer of hope. There was nothing. At least the bed was comfortable.

The boy growled, rolling onto his side, his face a deep red. His back still hurt. That fact didn't help his pride at all.

"Still scowling, Ichigo?"

The room was disturbingly quiet. The two people in the room remained completely still, even their breathing was quiet. One; standing near the doorway, smiling at the other. The other; on the bed, staring wide-eyed at the floor.

"No greeting?"

Ichigo struggled to swallow, the beating of his heart filling his ears. Anyone but this man. Anyone but Aizen.

"Really. What manners."

A step forward.

"Here I expected at the least an insult. Oh dear. What shall we do about this?"

Ichigo gathered the courage to look up from the floor. Aizen's stare met his.

"Shall we play a new game?"

It almost felt anti-climatic to Ichigo. A heavy silence fell. He expected something, anything to happen. What was this man planned? This man who kept his smug stare in the silence.

Aizen broke the silence with a light chuckle. Ichigo finally did realize that something indeed happened. Or rather three things. Just now noticing the profusely bleeding cut on his forehead, another on the back of his hand. Ichigo screamed, twitching uncontrollably, rolling onto his back. He had failed to notice his right arm, which he had had his weight supported on, was broken in three places.

"...h-ha-so-son of a _bitch_.." The shinigami hissed out the last word, gathering up all the venom he could.

"Well, I suppose that's an improvement. But don't worry. You should know better than anyone that you're quite the sturdy boy." The brown haired man chuckled, walking around the bed, stopping at the side. Placing his hands on the bed, leaning down to Ichigo, whispering into his ear. "You know, I did mean to split you in half. That one time."

A feeling of warmth in Ichigo's stomach welled up, then seemed to double and double, turning into pain, leaving Ichigo in a silent scream. Seeing the skin on his stomach break and cave under the pressure of seemingly nothing, Ichigo's screams gained noise. Aizen had probably said something, but was easily drowned out by Ichigo as the man backed away to avoid getting blood on his white clothes.

Aizen stepped away from the bed and leaned against the wall near the headboard, watching Ichigo writhe and scream, occasionally glancing a death stare at him. He watched. Fascinated. The boy whose cries became quieter. The boy who had enough control to do so. The boy who amazed the Soul Society.

A fascinating..._creature_.

"..nnkk..k-kuh.." Ichigo groaned feeling light-headed. For a moment he couldn't process the crimson stained sheets he was lying on, or the man watching him. It took a while before his double-vision settled. And even after that, he focused on easing his breathing. Gasping for life in front of this man, took another hit at Ichigo's ego. Breathing at a quickened, but not gasping rate, Ichigo now could focus on glaring at that man. Feeling so powerless that he couldn't just get up and beat him to a senseless pulp.

Aizen said nothing, but stepped forward, sliding his foot across the floor making a scraping sound. Ichigo lifted an eyebrow. Aizen smiled.

Returning to the bedside, with Ichigo watching him cautiously, Aizen lifted his right hand.

The shinigami stopped himself from gulping. That showed fear. There was no way in hell he'd ever show fear again to this man.

Aizen placed his hand around Ichigo's neck. There was no trip grip; it wasn't even a grip. His palm hovered over Ichigo's neck, and his fingertips touched the now-red bed covers.

"..what are yo-hhgk!" Without even touching his neck there was a restricting feeling.

He was choking him.

But he wasn't choking him.

_I-Is this...That hypnosis th-thing?_

Ichigo gasped, trying desperately to breath. Aizen had moved himself on the bed, straddling Ichigo's waist. With his one good arm, Ichigo tried shoving off the larger man. Attempting to move his legs only irritated his already bleeding stomach wound.

Catching a clear look at the man, Ichigo processed the face before him. It wasn't the usual smile that the king of Hueco Mundo wore. It was a face of curiosity. A neutral smile. A lifted eyebrow. As if he was asking:___'When will you give up?' 'When will you pass out?'_A child ripping the wings off a fly.

_'When will you break?'_

"Hm." Aizen lifted himself off Ichigo, inspecting his clothes for stains. On his knees were extremely visible stains, everywhere else had remained clean.

Ichigo had already passed out shortly after giving Aizen an interesting look. A look of shock, of understanding. The boy seemed to have finally caught on. Whether that was good or bad thing for Aizen...was dependent on Ichigo's willpower.

"Don't die while I'm gone, Ichigo." A chuckle echoed through the room, leaving Ichigo alone, bleeding and his dreams haunted with a new-found terror for the man who ruled the Arrancar.


	7. Broken

The day dragged along painfully slow. The same thing reflected in the screens. White walls. Sand. Sand. And more sand.

Tousen entertained himself by watching, or rather feeling, Wonderweiss running about batting a pebble around. The boy always seemed to be enjoying himself. Tousen envied that.

"..Hmm?" The former captain turned his head back toward the screens. Something changed.

"Well, wouldcha lookit that?" Surprising only Wonderweiss, Gin Ichimaru leaned over Tousen, resting his chin on the blind man's shoulder.

"Looks like the Soul Society finally 'cided to fetch Ichi up, huh? Better late than ever." Tousen ignored the fox man, focusing on the screen displaying a stretch of land in Hueco Mundo. It was easy identifying the figures there. Uryu Ishida, the quincy whose different spiritual pressure made him stick out like a sore thumb. With him was also the large boy call Chad. Rukia Kuchiki, Renji Abarai, Ikkaku Madarame, Yumichika Ayasegawa and surprisingly, Yoruichi Shihoin.

"Aizen-sama probably already knows they are here." Tousen shifted his shoulder, trying to shake the other man off.

"Ah, then let the Arrancar handle 'em." Gin lifted himself off of Tousen. "'Sides, he's probably still pickin' on lil Ichi."

"Shouldn't you be picking on Inoue?" Tousen kept himself from scowling. He honestly wanted the man to leave, for his own patience and for the sake of Wonderweiss who would probably have a heart attack if the man kept popping up out of nowhere.

"Aw, you're borin'. Let's watch Ichi and Aizen-sama." Gin grinned, turning on the screen that displayed Ichigo's room despite the blind man's protest.

* * *

Aizen had already started his little games with Ichigo. Leaving the boy on the bed stark-naked, hands bound, lying in a rather embarrassing position. His face down in the covers, supporting himself on his knees, his ass in the air.

Any attempt to move would of been met with a sudden blast of spiritual pressure that nearly made the boy throw up.

The man hadn't touched Ichigo after that. He just stayed, leaning against the wall near the bed, watching the ever growing blush on Ichigo's face. He stifled his laughs, trying not to taunt Ichigo too much..yet.

"..if..if you're going to do something.."

"Oh? So you want me to do something?" Aizen responded quickly, cutting Ichigo's sentence short.

"_I'm tired of being fucking toyed with_!" Ichigo growled but his body remained still, obedient.

"Well, that's your job as my plaything isn't it?" Aizen moved off of the wall, placing a large hand on Ichigo's shoulder, flipping him on his back. Ichigo wasn't sure when the man got on him, but was completely absorbed in the soul-piercing gaze he shot Ichigo.

"_I'm suppose to toy with you_." He whispered, his smug smile returning. The shinigami's breathing hitched, fearing what this man would do next.

* * *

"What the hell are you doing?" Grimmjow growled, inspecting the room. Wonderweiss cowering in the corner. Gin and Tousen watching one screen as if their lives depended on it.

"Ey! Damn fox, what did you call me for?" The sixth Espada stomped over to the screens, immediately understanding why. He watched as religiously as the other two had. He should of been making sure to help out the intruders in Las Noches, but this was something he couldn't pass up.

Even if he wasn't doing it himself, he could watch that damned shinigami suffering.

* * *

Aizen loosed his hakama, for, well, easy access. However, before that, he wanted to play a bit more with his plaything.

"Do you know what's going on right now?"

Ichigo held his breath. Was this another trick? What would happen to him if he did follow along with it?

"..w..what?"

"Your precious friends are coming to save you." Aizen flicked Ichigo's nose, tilting his head. "Lucky boy."

Ichigo's sight burst into stars. He knew what a punch felt like but this sent him off into a whole new spectrum of pain. Absolutely sure his jaw was broken, Ichigo coughed trying to spit out the blood that threatened to choke him. The pain from his face mixed in with the pain caused by Aizen thrusting into him. The blood in his mouth made him gag and yell out in pain.

Aizen wasn't interested much in letting Ichigo adjust, not that he ever would. He immediately began thrusting reveling in the expression on Ichigo's face.

The shinigami by now knew. He had first thought Aizen had honestly done all this for sexual satisfaction..but that wasn't it. The man's personality seemed to have no place for that. It was something else he wanted from Ichigo. Something that no one else had over the boy.

Complete and utter control. And he had it.

"P-please! _S-stop_!" Ichigo sobbed, letting the tears flow freely for Aizen to see. Pain and tears blinded him, but he could hear Aizen chuckle in response.

"No. And say that again." Aizen continued his relentless thrusting. Ichigo wailed in response. He was enjoying Ichigo's failed attempts, his tries at stopping the pain.

Ichigo arched his back, gasping at the sudden stabbing pains running up his stomach. Aizen leaned over, reaching an arm around Ichigo, digging his nails deep into the boy's back. Removing all but one nail, Aizen carved into Ichigo's back.

"A...I.."

Aizen kept his eyes on Ichigo's face as he carved his name into Ichigo's back, watching whatever pride was left in the boy disappear.

"Aizen-sama?"

Aizen looked behind him at the white door. The voice behind it spoke up again.

"I apologize for interrupting, but I imagine you would want to send the shinigami off yourself."

Aizen smiled, lifting himself off of the sobbing Ichigo. He pulled himself out and straighten out his clothes.

"Well, that's a fine idea. It'll be interesting to see their expressions. You're dismissed, Ulquiorra."

* * *

"Fucking Ulquiorra!" Grimmjow roared, restraining himself from punching the screen in.

"Ssh, sssh, Grimmjow! Now we can see who won, yeah?" Gin calmed the espada down, never removing his eyes from the screen.

* * *

Aizen placed a hand on the doorknob. He turned back to Ichigo who had still remained on the bed, a sobbing shell of what he was.

___'He will break...But not in the conventional way.'_

He stepped forward, dragging his foot across the floor the scraping noise echoing through the room.

_'After all...all toys will break..no matter how gently..or roughly you treat them.'_

Ichigo flinched.

___'But why toss out an interesting toy? After all...'_

Aizen narrowed his eyes. He removed his hand off the doorknob and toward his hip. His zanpakto seemed to materialize out of nowhere, but he unsheathed it, approaching Ichigo.

___'It can be fixed.'_

"Kanzen Saimin."

* * *

Ulquiorra stepped into the silent monitor room. Tousen had turned away from the screens. Gin was still focused on it, while Grimmjow was giving him the death glare.

"It looks like I win." Ulquiorra directed it at Gin and Grimmjow and left the room.

* * *

Ichigo groaned, his eyesight slowly returning. What had happened? He wracked his brain for ideas of where he was or what happened before he blacked out.

The room was white. Painfully white. His wrists were chaffed from the chains pinning him to the wall. He came to Las Noches with his friends to fetch Orihime...then what happened?

"..Shit."

Now he remembered. He had been fighting Grimmjow and Gin had knocked had snuck up behind him and knocked him out..

His eyes snapped over to the door that suddenly creaked open.

A piercing glare. A smug grin. Brown hair slicked back. And a unfounded, sudden fear building up in Ichigo's chest.

"Hello Ichigo."


End file.
